“All right, but I have to make it quick,” Wally said. “I’m supposed to be at the front desk.”
Vi shook her head. “I don’t think you’ll get any more customers today.” She waved her arm toward the window and the full-on winter storm that raged outside.
Wally’s mouth tightened at the corners. He took a deep breath. “Alastair Carlisle built the castle in 1895, after a trip to Scotland. He and his wife, Ada, had fallen in love with the castles over there and wanted to build one of their own. Ada had inherited a large piece of forested land from her father, and the two of them designed the house together using her land and his money.”
Vi waved her hand in a move-along gesture.
Wally grimaced and continued.
“During the five years it took to build the castle, Ada fell ill. By the time it was completed, she was essentially bedridden. The couple had two small boys and needed to hire a governess to watch them and begin their schooling. Alastair built a small cottage on the grounds for the governess and designed the turret bedroom for his wife.”
“You can probably tell where this story is going,” Vi broke in. “Mr. Carlisle and the governess had an affair and thought that his invalid wife would never be the wiser.”
“I was getting to that.” Wally cleared his throat. “And there’s no proof . . .”
“Well, Ada was no dummy,” Vi said, ignoring him. “Even though she was sick, it didn’t mean she was stupid. She figured out what he was up to and she was furious.”
Wally opened his mouth to continue the story.
Vi held up her hand. “She had nothing to do up in her turret room other than knit and contemplate her own death and feel betrayed by her husband,” Vi said. “So, she hatched a plan.”
“We don’t know that, Ms. Greer,” Wally said.
Vi crossed her arms, and narrowed her eyes at him. “The rumors say she told the nanny she had put a curse on her. The Victorians were very interested in spirits and many believed in ghosts. Mrs. Carlisle said if anything happened to her, she would return and curse the nanny and her husband.” Vi nodded to Wally to tell his part of the tale.
Wally continued. “According to the story, by the time the castle was finished, Ada and Alastair were barely speaking. Her illness left her confined to her room, where she heard about the happenings in the castle from her trusted maid. The governess took over the care of the young boys and eventually,” Wally said and paused with a severe look at Vi, “rumors said, Alastair fell in love with her.”
Vi nodded to encourage him.
“One night, in the dead of winter, Ada drowned in her own bathtub,” Wally said. “She had sent the maid to get some hot cocoa and by the time the servant returned, Ada was dead. Of course, there was an investigation, but they found no evidence of foul play. The police assumed she had passed out from her liberal use of narcotics and drowned by accident.”
“Narcotics?” Mac asked.
Wally nodded, and began to speak when Vi interrupted again. “Calm down, Kojack. They all took laudanum back then.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t like she was dealing drugs.”
I placed a calming hand on Mac’s arm. Not that I needed to. There were many things I loved about Mac, but his restraint in dealing with Vi was definitely at the top of my list.
Wally raised his eyebrows at Vi.
Vi ignored him and took over the story. “Since then, rumors have flown and people say that Alastair or the nanny actually killed her off so they could be together. Her ghost looks out the upper window of the turret room and some people have seen it wandering the halls and climbing the stairs.”
“Why would her ghost be walking the halls if she was bedbound?” I said.
Vi held my gaze. “You know as well as I do that ghosts can do anything they want—it’s one of the perks of being a ghost.”
“I hadn’t realized there were perks . . . ,” I said.
Mac cleared his throat and glowered at us both.
Vi resumed her tale. “Tragically, the nanny died about a year later. She had moved in to the main house and she fell down the stairs on a perfectly clear night. No one knows why she was out of bed, or what she was doing wandering the halls. The people in town said it was the ghost of Mrs. Carlisle who pushed her. Alastair never got over the double loss of his wife and his mistress.”
“Alleged mistress,” Wally said.
Vi narrowed her eyes at him.
“Alleged mistress,” Vi said. “The boys grew up and had their own scandals. Prohibition was very lucrative—”
Wally stood, interrupting her. “I really need to get back to the desk. I’ll let the chef know there will be two more for dinner.”
“This is gonna be great!” Vi said.
4